phantasmagoria
by waterinks
Summary: history and truth; assassin and wanderer; dreams and reality. What is real, and what is imaginary? KK. Time-travel AU/Canon rift.
1. Arc 1: The Revolution and the Battousai

**Title:** History in the Making  
**Pairings:** Kaoru/Kenshin...  
**Categories:** Adventure/Action/Romance  
**Sub-Categories: **Drama/light Humour and Angst (because it's _Rurouni Kenshin_)/and maybe some Mystery, because I can.  
**Rating:** T...M later on, perhaps.  
**Author's Notes:** The Well and elements of Kaoru's modern life are taken from the anime/manga **Inuyasha**.

However, no other references are made to IY so there is no need for you to have read/watched it to understand HitM. The well is purely convenient as a time portal and plot device - cos I'm lazy like that :)

**This is AU, but it will become a lot more canon as we go along. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

* * *

**First Arc  
**Myths and Legends

**Prologue**  
The Revolution and the Battousai

* * *

**Tokyo, Japan  
September, 2009**

"The Meiji Era!"

A sharp rap resounded throughout the room, causing heads to turn automatically to the noise.

"As I mentioned before the summer break, this is our topic for the semester, class."

The inhabitants of said class groaned for a few moments after the announcement. The petite teacher at the front of the room smiled at their response and put down the ruler that she had previously used on the whiteboard. Her heels clacked on the floor as she crossed the room and the class slowly became silent.

Mrs. Shimizu was a good teacher, it was known by the majority of the school populace. Perhaps it was the tone her voice took when she spoke of the wars of times past, or the way her eyes would crease ever so slightly when she taught students about the lives of people long since dead. Some thought it was the way she spoke of history as if it was a fairytale, as if it was a book she would never tire of opening. It was like she was born to teach history, as some were born to write and some were born to fix people.

This year's history class was as non-descript as the last, faces and names flew past her quicker than she could remember them. Some were loud, some were quiet and some were just plain weird.

She watched the sea of black heads for a moment with calm eyes, before raising her voice again.

"Don't be like that people, look at it this way; we are learning about a time which shaped our country into what it is today." She began searching aimlessly on her desk for her textbook.

A few mutters were heard before a dark-haired boy near the front spoke up.

"But Miss, the Meiji Era was as boring as they come! I mean, with everything that went on in the Feudal era; the Meiji was a bit of a let down. People weren't even allowed swords were they?!"

Mrs. Shimizu paused in her search and took a breath. There was always one. The Feudal Era had been their previous topic; full of blood and war and political conflict; naturally the boys had loved it. She looked up at the boy with narrow eyes and recited the well-worn words.

"I'm sorry, Tanaka, but were you alive during the Meiji Era? Are you really 150 years old? You're looking good." Her voice was like dry ice, the light humour hovering above the serious tone beneath. The class looked as if they didn't know whether to laugh or shiver.

The boy called Tanaka spluttered pathetically and had the decency to blush.

Laughing slightly, she continued looking for her book.

"Do you think that just because there was a sword ban that no one used one? That's like saying the age limits on violent video games actually work."

He blinked and in his confusion gave an awkward shrug before she went on, "As historians, we can't afford to make such assumptions, you should know that by now. I guess I'll just have to show you how _un_-boring the Meiji Era was; turn to page nine in your textbooks and get ready for the lesson."

She raked through a pile of folders before finally retrieving her own book, as the classroom was filled with the sound of flicking pages and quiet snippets of conversation.

_

She turned the pages lazily until she found the right one. Her blue eyes scanned the page with interest and quiet confusion that was copied by others surrounding her. _The Bakumatsu, huh? Wasn't that _before_ the Meiji Era?_

Shrugging, she pushed the book to the side and reached into her bag for her pen and folder. Pulling a piece of A4 out, she wrote the title and her name at the top, in neat strokes.

_The Beginnings of the Meiji Era- The Bakumatsu  
Kaoru Kamiya_

_

"Now, in order for you to understand how the time of peace and innovation, or the Meiji Era came about, you have to know about what went on before it," Mrs. Shimizu watched the class closely, "thus, we have the Bakumatsu-- the revolution."

"It was the turning point in what Japan had known for centuries; the downfall of the Tokugawa Shogunate and the end of the Edo Period and of Feudalism."

"Many things happened in this time of war and bloodshed that went undocumented. Underhand dealings, massacres, assassinations. It was a terrible place to be alive in. The most dangerous place to be, was of course the capital at the time; Kyoto. It was once described that due to the amount of blood spilled in the streets, that the scent and aura of death ingrained itself into the very foundations of the city. Not to mention the old saying that 'the rain in Kyoto was not of water, but of blood'."

Many in the class shivered uncomfortably and looked at the textbook page, where an old photograph of the city of Kyoto in 1865 was; its tall pagodas and smoky skyline.

"The major opposing groups in the city were of course the pro-Imperialist, Ishin-shishi and the elite Shogunate forces, the Shinsengumi swordsmen...a secret police if you will."

A hand rose.

"Yes, Miss Suzuki?"

"Wasn't the Shinsengumi the group that Hajime Saitou belonged to, Miss?" Her soft voice inquired.

"Yes indeed it was. Hajime Saitou was the leader of the 3rd Squad and is of course one of the more well-known warriors of the Bakumatsu. May I ask how you know about him, Suzuki?"

"Err," she hesitated, waiting for the inevitable backlash of laughter from her classmates, "I saw it on a documentary the other night on the history channel."

"Yes, well, since he is relevant to the topic, Saitou was a master of kenjutsu and it was under his command that the Shinsengumi earned their nickname; the Wolves of Mibu. Saitou controlled only a segment of the groups, but they were one of the most skilled and were often dispatched into the very heart of Kyoto. Now, the majority of the Shinsengumi were actually ex-samurai or Ronin and--"

"Meaning that the majority of them were blood-thirsty heathens," a bespectacled boy near the window called out.

-

Kaoru glanced up and frowned.

Ichiro Hayashi was a swat. Always was, and always would be. His dark hair was greasy and molded to his head. Kaoru didn't know if it was just unwashed or that he fashioned it that way. His black, beady eyes would peer over his horn-rimmed glasses and his teeth would protrude from between his lips, ever so slightly, whenever he looked in her direction. Strangely enough, he thought himself to be God's gift to women-- didn't the guy own a mirror? However, he had a particular dislike towards her, and at any chance he got, (which was mainly in History); he'd throw a dig at her.

Kaoru had concluded that it was because of some misunderstanding that their grandfathers had had over a game of Shogi about 30 years ago-- the circumstances were kind of sketchy. Anyway, Hayashi came from the 'better' part of town and was forever finding things to annoy Kaoru about; be it her family dojo or anything else he didn't approve of.

Her mouth opened before she could stop it.

"What do you know, Hayashi?!"

-

Mrs. Shimizu sighed. The class debates were usually long and tedious-- involving swords and honour, especially when they were between Hayashi and Kamiya.

"Is there something you wish to contribute, Kaoru?" She asked the blue eyed girl calmly.

Kaoru looked startled for a moment before nodding and turning to the boy who sat a few seats away from her.

"You shouldn't be so stereotypical, Hayashi," she began hesitantly, before gaining more confidence, "Obviously, like your grandfather has probably been telling you, there were some who liked killing and got a thrill from it, but we can't forget that most of them must have had some amount of honour, with the following of the Bushido code and all."

Hayashi sniffed slightly before pushing his glasses further up his nose and smirking easily.

"Don't you think you're being a _tiny _bit biased there, Kamiya, seeing as your family own a dojo downtown?"

Kaoru looked at him, disdainfully.

"That doesn't make it any less true, idiot!"

"Who are you calling idiot, you--?!"

Rolling her eyes discreetly, Mrs Shimizu cut in.

"Ok, calm down people, historical debates shouldn't involve name-calling...but then again..." she paused thoughtfully before shaking her head, "What Kamiya said is true. Samurai were, of course, not all mindless killing machines; after all, they _were _human. Their skill in weaponry was unmatched during the times of war and revolution, especially their talent in swordsmanship."

She eyed the pair, who were now glaring daggers at each other; the air around them almost palpable.

Deciding to defuse the tension, the teacher cleared her throat and carried on with the lesson.

"So, where was I? Oh yes, Hajime Saitou was arguably at the top of his game. Few had the courage or skill to challenge him. Most died trying. Except...perhaps one..."

The two rivals gave each-other one last queer look before turning to watch their teacher with the rest of the class. Mrs. Shimizu stood still at the front of the class, staring unseeingly at the cloudy sky outside. She gave a quiet sigh, as if she had said something that should have been avoided.

"You must be wondering what this old woman is going on about now," her low voice caused some at the back of the room to frown in concentration in order to hear her words, "I say 'perhaps' because this man's existence is rather...shadowed, for lack of a better word. His history is so stained in blood that historians have argued for almost a century over his actual existence and the extent of his crimes. Some called him a demon, sent by the Gods to wreck havoc on those who opposed the Imperialists. 'Heavenly Justice', they called it. He was supposed to have killed without feeling, without compassion or guilt and above all; without mercy."

"Who was he, Miss?" It was that Tanaka boy again, his intrigue ironically contradicting his previous attitude.

"Well, let's look at the next page shall we?"

Page nine fluttered by thirty times. Forgotten and dismissed in its passing.

_

Kaoru thumbed the page impatiently. Who could this guy be?

The unusual quiet of the class was surprising but she never took much notice, the silence edged around her consciousness and her eyes searched the page until she found what she was looking for.

She stared at the picture of an old, yellowed painting in the centre of the white textbook page. The crusted edges and look of decay made the actual image blurry, but she could still make out the figure's distinct features clearly enough.

White hakama and a navy blue gi: the uniform of the Ishin-shishi, old tales from her grandpa told her so.

A long katana held unsheathed in front of him.

Flaming red hair, tied in a top knot.

And eerie golden eyes that seemed to seep into the yellow fabric of the cloth on which it was painted upon.

Kaoru swallowed past her dry throat and her eyes watered with the intensity of the figure's gaze and her own need to return it, unwaveringly. It was such a strange sensation. Dragging her eyes away, she scanned the picture. So deadly and haunting, like something that had just stepped out of a nightmare and yet, he was beautiful, in a sad way that echoed pain and tragic anger.

The irrational part of Kaoru's mind that reminded her that she was a seventeen year old teenager, thought he could vaguely resemble what was known as being handsome. However, she wiped that aside with vigour, because after all, it was only an oil painting.

The pull of the picture was strong and unnerving, the otherworldly beauty of it should have been impossible.

Kaoru broke the connection and stared at the ceiling, in all its yellow, flaky glory.

_Who is he? What is he? Is he real?_

Her eyes eventually moved away from ceiling above her head and she scanned the small text beneath the photo --

-

"He was the legendary hitokiri, the manslayer; Battousai..."

The class remained silent. However, the awe in her own voice seemed to snap Mrs. Shimizu out of the trance.

"It's strange," she spoke quietly, as if almost to herself, "That no matter how many times I teach about him...there's always that feeling present. You'd think I'd get used to it..."

She glanced at his golden eyes one last time, before looking back to the class, who were still sitting wide-eyed like a bunch of pre-schoolers who had just listened to their very first fairytale.

"He's really something, huh?" she asked softly. The class nodded, mutely.

"Of course, this is merely an artist's impression of what Battousai looked like. Flaming red hair and golden eyes are all well and good for being the stereotypical demon of hell that he is portrayed to be here, but in reality...well, it's just not very likely. Not impossible by any means due to immigration, but still, unlikely. And so, we can safely say that this is not a reliable source due to it's biased content, despite it's...appeal."

Most of the boys snapped out of the daze fairly soon after that; laughing it off and pretending it had never happened. The girls, however, were another story...

Eyes were glazed over. Bottom lips were chewed red. And cheeks were flushed and rosy.

Mrs. Shimizu laughed heartily, breaking the uneasy tension of the room. It was the same every year.

-

Kaoru let out a breath as she looked around the class.

Sure, the guy was handsome and could probably handle his sword well...but wasn't the whole 'near-fainting' business taking it to the extreme? It was hard to believe that these girls were meant to be seventeen years old. The guy was a murderer for god's sake.

That's right. He was a murderer. Someone who had killed, maimed and maybe even raped.

"Losers," she mumbled as she started fiddling with her pen.

-

Mrs. Shimizu smiled at the head of Kaoru Kamiya, who proved me the actual 'minority' of the girls that day.

"Miss?" Yuka Maeda gushed. "Do you think that maybe the Battousai was actually this hopeless romantic who was tragically in love with the daughter of the Shogun...or something?!" The girls sitting around her squealed in agreement and nodded their heads adamantly, obviously already believing the theory despite what Mrs. Shimizu's opinion would be.

A bunch of collective sighs were heard.

"A romantic swordsman. What's the chance, eh?" Yuka's breathy voice caught slightly, "A Tale of Meiji Romance! I say we do it as this winter's drama production!"

This was once again followed by many sighs and giggles of agreement.

"Yeah, like a Japanese version of 'Romeo and Juliet'!" Another cried.

The teacher looked as if she was about to take a step back, but instead, she just shook her head humorously.

-

Kaoru's rigid shock at Yuka's announcement wore off after a few moments.

_What. The. Hell. Was that?!_

With wide eyes, she turned around to the girl sitting behind her. One of her supposed best friends. Head of the Drama club and the craziest girl she knew. The one known as Yuka...the _fangirl_?

"Yuka..." Kaoru intoned sweetly, "Since when were you the Battousai's number one fan?"

The girl giggled and wound a finger around a strand of already tousled hair.

"Oh, I dunno...about the same time I realised that he was a total _hunk_!"

Kaoru rolled her eyes.

"But the guy must have murdered hundreds of-- "

"Ahh, forgive and forget! That's what I've always said."

_Since when?_ But Kaoru decided not to voice her thoughts and instead, she turned around in her chair, deciding that Yuka was a lost cause.

_I guess the girls really weren't feeling the same thing I was when they looked at the picture. But...what were the guys thinking then? _She looked out of the corner of her eye at a boy who sat to her right, before flicking them back to her textbook.

_Scary thought..._

-

"Alright girls, calm down now. You can discuss drama and romance at break but right now, we're learning about the Battousai." The girls started whispering again.

"_And_, when I say the Battousai, I mean the assassin, _not _the Romantic swordsman," she chuckled slightly as the girls blushed.

"Now that everyone is settled," she looked over the top of her textbook and peered at the class of seventeen year olds, "we can go on."

She cleared her voice.

"It was said that Battousai got his nickname from his use of Battoujutsu. However, his sword style is unknown or was simply just lost to History like so many things sadly are."

"Didn't he have a proper name?" One of the boys from the back called out.

"Well, shadow assassins were not the most documented characters of the Bakumatsu. It was their job to be discrete, after all. The best times for them in a place like Kyoto were under the cover of darkness, or in crowds. It's no wonder there is little known about them. The Battousai is no different. What lies on these few pages is about everything there is to know about him."

Small groups of conversation were beginning just as the door opened, revealing the elderly office worker, Mrs. Hadaka.

"Mrs. Shimizu, there is a telephone call for you."

"Ahh, there is? Well okay, thank you, Ai. I'll be with you in a second. Look over your notes while I go and see who this is," she told them and then followed the older woman out of the room.

-

Kaoru tucked an ebony strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned over her textbook. The teacher was right; there wasn't much to know about him at all. An eye witness account here, a paragraph of heavily padded facts there; all of which could have easily been biased or influenced. She sighed.

_I hope we don't have to write an essay on him. Mine would be about four lines long!_ She turned a page. The title read, '_The Battle of Toba Fushimi._'

Deciding that there was no harm in reading ahead, she quickly scanned the page. '1868...One of the last battles of the Revolution...Last recorded sighting of the Hitokiri Battou-- Wait!'

She stopped and re-read the last sentence, her eyes following every word. '_Last recorded sighting of the Hitokiri Battousai._'

She frowned and looked up from the page, staring at the boy's head in front of her. _That was the last time he was seen? Nothing after that? Gods...talk about a shadowed life..._ Noticing one last paragraph on the page, she quickly read on. It was taken from an account written by a scholar in the Meiji Era.

It stood out with its bold, italic writing.

_In the whirlpool of violence that Kyoto became after the arrival of the Black Ships in Japan, there arose a warrior known as the Hitokiri Battousai. This man, who paved the way for the new Meiji era with these bloody battles, disappeared at the conclusion of the bloodshed. With the passage of time he has become a legend, known simply as "the strongest."_

_Source: Unknown. Year: Circa 1878._

"The strongest..."

It was like a conclusion to his life story. _What life though? It just couldn't have ended there!_ She blinked slowly. Perhaps he wasn't real. Just a legend, conjured up by crack-pot scholars who had more time and supplies of opium on their hands than was healthy. If he had been real then he couldn't have just _disappeared. _It wasn't even physically possible. Maybe he had headed off to the Bermuda triangle to live in peace, away from crazy revenge-seeking relatives of the people he had killed? Or...maybe he had run up the mountains, joined forces with some pacifistic monks, shaved his hair off and become a born-again Buddhist. Or maybe not.

What a life, though. All he would have known was blood and war and death. Hardly your average Disney fairytale...maybe more reminiscent of a Quentin Tarantino film she had watched at Yuka's once.

Kaoru was still lost in thought when a whisper was heard from her left.

"Psst, Kamiya," it was Hayashi again, "You'd know all about this thing, huh? Battoujutsu?" He made it sound so...worthless.

He held up his book and indicated to the paragraph on the page, under the same title. Kaoru glared at the greasy haired boy, through hazy eyes. It took a few moments for her brain to process his words.

_That weirdo. If I had my bokken, ooohh he would get it...big time. _Cutting off her violent thoughts, she looked back to his finger and the word it was pointed at.

"You shouldn't talk about things you don't even understand, Hayashi. For a swat, you really are quite stupid sometimes, you know that?" She whispered back, furiously.

Hayashi looked offended. People in the surrounding area chuckled under their breath.

"Oh, come off it. Listen, the Kamiya Kasshin style has nothing to do with the swordsmanship that the Battousai would have used. It--"

"Yeah, yeah, it teaches the 'Sword that Protects'. As you've been telling us since second grade."

A few mumbles of agreement met Kaoru's ears and she blushed slightly. Of course it was popular knowledge that her family had a dojo and that she was assistant master. She was proud of her heritage, damn it! Her brow furrowed.

"Well, it would have been kind of ironic if he was using such a technique, wouldn't it?"

The boy looked at her, almost thoughtfully.

_Am I finally getting through to him?_

He sniffed again, pushed his glasses up, and looked out of the window.

Kaoru sighed.

_

Mrs. Shimizu came back into the room a few moments later. She smiled at her buzzing class.

"Is everything all right, Miss?" Eri Oshiro, another of Kaoru's friends, asked.

The teacher nodded her head, complacently. "Yes, yes, everything's fine. My daughter wants me to pick her up from her study club tonight. Heaven forbid the little madam walk home. Okay, class!"

Chairs squeaked as they were twisted back into their original positions and conversations died quickly. Mrs. Shimizu celebrated her success inside. She had always believed that instead of ruling her classroom with an iron fist, she would tolerate their activities, even encourage them at times. This made the students more happy and willing to work if they knew they would get free time at the end. Plus, History was a popular subject and no one complained about her way of teaching since the exam pass rate was nearly the best in the school.

"Now, I know the section on the Battousai is very small but it really is a favourite with examiners. They believe that since it's so small, that it will be easily overlooked. But I'm sure you all will be fine seeing your enthusiasm for the topic."

A few grumbles from the boys and a few sighs from the girls were heard.

"The bell's going to go in two minutes so you can get packed up. After the week-end, we'll start on the Ishin-shishi and Shinsengumi internal hierarchies."

A rush of breath and the grating sound of thirty or so seats scraping across the floor cut through the air. The same sounds came from classrooms up and down the hallway.

The Drama club members had gathered around Yuka's desk almost instantly and were chatting animatedly.

"So what kind of props will we need? Any idea who should do make-up? Anyone got an actual storyline? Forget all that, who's playing Battousai?! He'd better be cute..."

-

Kaoru packed her textbook and folder safely back into her bag and slung it gently over her shoulder, as not to disturb the growing group of hyperactive fan-girls swarming around Yuka's desk. Her best friend's voice could be heard over the crowd, seemingly calling for order.

She giggled slightly and moved towards the front of the class. Most of the boys were hanging around by the window, except Hayashi who was hovering by the teacher's desk.

Kaoru got out her timetable and tried to figure out what she had after lunch. But the moment didn't allow her to.

"Kamiya, can I see you for a moment?" It was Mrs. Shimizu.

She jumped slightly, before realising who had called her and obediently folded her timetable up and went to the teacher's desk, brushing past Hayashi.

"Yes, Miss?" she asked politely.

"Kaoru, I was just wondering if you understood today's lesson. You looked rather bemused by it all."

She was about to protest that she didn't want the Battousai's ass, when Mrs. Shimizu held up her hand, "I mean, bemused in ways other than by his looks."

"Ahh," she muttered unintelligently and scratched the back of her neck. She could feel Hayashi's eyes on her. "Well...yeah, I suppose so. I've always been interested in the past and the people in it...but..."

"But?" The teacher prompted kindly whilst arranging her desk for the next class.

"It's just...I kind of looked forward in the book, to the section about Toba Fushimi and well...it said that that was the last sighting of the Battousai. Is it true? He was never seen again after that?"

At that moment, the bell rang. Kaoru didn't move and Mrs. Shimizu didn't even blink as she continued to monotonously file papers into drawers. She felt the people in the room bow before leaving; Hayashi was last out.

The teacher finally looked up and assessed her.

"Kaoru...I understand that you must feel a...connection if you will, with the Battousai. Please don't take that as an insult, I mean only in regard to your swordsmanship, as we must understand that despite Battousai using his sword to kill, he must have had some degree of skill."

She nodded in understanding, before Mrs. Shimizu went on.

"And well, I have taught students about this figure for many years and when I first learned about him in university, I was young and naïve. A bit more mature than the girls in this class, but not by much. I guess, I saw his story as romantic in the beginning as well but please, Kaoru, don't ponder over his story too much. Yes, there was an assassin by the name of Battousai. Yes, he disappeared after the Battle of Toba Fushimi. And yes, there were no further records of his existence. But like I said before," she pushed in her chair and gave Kaoru a smile, "he is only a figure in our country's dense history. And it is saddening, but we shall never know his true story."

The classroom was strangely quiet now. The students out in the school grounds were many floors below. Their whistling and shouting seemed miles away. The afternoon rain had begun to hit against the windows, softly and silently. The only indication of its presence was the sudden crescendo of yelling as the people below went to find shelter.

The smell of fresh coffee was wafting through from the staff room at the end of the hall.

Kaoru inhaled slowly.

"So, he isn't just a legend?"

Mrs. Shimizu looked thoughtful for a moment and there was a slight pause before she began speaking.

"I personally don't believe that he is only a legend. Perhaps he is now but not then. I think he was as alive as you and me. But for history's sake, he shall remain a myth...a legend destined to be the demon that comes to scare children when they don't go to sleep, the monster hidden within the darkness, beneath their beds."

The schoolgirl shifted her weight slightly. She knew it was time to go, but there was one more thing she had to know.

"Do you think he was as bad as they say?"

The older woman smiled tightly at her. It was the same smile she had worn when she had first began speaking about him, almost an hour ago. Her lips turned up slightly at the corners, her eyes creased and her eyebrows furrowed. In that moment, Kaoru found herself looking at an old and tired woman.

"Worse."

Kaoru nodded and let out a breath. She had just begun to bow when her teacher spoke again.

"Don't think on it so much though, Kaoru," she said, smiling naturally once more and ushering the girl to the door, "get some lunch and just be thankful that we don't live in such a terrible time."

Closing the classroom door behind them, Mrs. Shimizu nodded to Kaoru and walked in the direction of the staff room. Listening to the echo of her teacher's heels as they became more and more distant, the kendo instructor paced quietly to the window, where the rain was pouring down the glass in rivets. She slowly let a breath out and watched as it clouded the glass.

**-**

**AN:Ages are generally the same as manga canon. Kaoru will be 18 next year in June, so for the majority of the story , she will be 17. Kenshin, when we meet him, will be 28 as normal. Everyone else is the same unless I say so.**

**Thanks for Reading!**


	2. I: The Mysterious, Forbidden Well

**Chapter I  
**The Mysterious, Forbidden Well

_Everything you can imagine is real  
_**Pablo Picasso**

Asakusa was busy. Sometimes it was manageable but at rush hour, like most places in Tokyo, it was hellish. The streets were swarmed with black umbrellas, moving as if they were a dark, ominous sea. Taxis, cars and buses were packed together, horns blaring.

Black loafers squished slightly as they moved along the sidewalk; a navy umbrella was held unsteadily, while a pale hand tried to heave a heavy bag further up a shoulder; a black ponytail swished in the wind and blue eyes sparkled with annoyance.

_What is the damn point in having a weather forecast saying it's gonna be 'sunshine all day', when it's like this? Torrential bloody rain!_

Kaoru grimaced and weaved in and out of the crowds, which was getting increasingly difficult. The rain had picked up at lunch time and it still hadn't let out. Mr. Narita, her math teacher, had turned out to be her saviour however, having lent her his umbrella for the journey home.

_Thank God for Math teachers, crumby subject though_. Kaoru sidestepped a businessman, who was seemingly on a mission. _Jerk..._

Her skirt and blouse were soaked through. The stupid, skimpy jacket could hardly protect her from the elements. At least Hibiya High didn't require the girls to wear sailor outfits. Kaoru had worn one in junior high school and had no desire to repeat the experience.

_I would have been out of Hibiya faster than they could say sailor. Then again, these aren't much better,_ she glanced at her own outfit, _If I'd known what the weather was gonna be like, I would have worn pants! The school rules can go to hell--_

Someone pushed past her; her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.

"Hey Bozo!" she yelled unabashedly. She was ready to follow the guy and procure an apology but the crowds were dense and there was hardly space for her to turn around. Sighing, she left it and was once again swept away.

She was crossing the main junction; it had taken forever for the traffic lights to change.

A puddle was splashed up her leg by a passing car, after she had crossed the street. The muddy water trailed down her knee and coloured her previously white soak, causing Kaoru to shiver in reaction. She cursed inwardly. What she would give for some damn pants--

_White hakama and a navy gi..._

Her breath caught in her throat and her pace slowed. She distantly heard the muttered annoyance from people as they stepped around her. She held the umbrella close to her chest. The patter of rain hitting off the plastic was heard. Her pale face was illuminated by the neon signs for Sony and Panasonic and other nameless companies that were stretched across the skyscrapers and buildings above her. The blaring horns had risen to a cacophony that blocked everything else out.

After history class, she'd gone about her day. She'd met up with the girls and they'd gone to McDonalds for lunch before the rain got bad. She'd had her usual Big Mac and had half-listened to their conversation. This was mostly about what exams they were convinced they were going to fail and what boy had the bad luck of being their fixation for the day. With the added bonus of Yuka's plans for the play, of course. Afterwards, they'd headed back to school for a double period of Math.

Kaoru blinked. _Oh, get a grip._

She started walking again, cutting off from the busy street, and into a back road that only someone who had lived in the area their entire life would have been able to find easily. The streets here were suddenly closer together and were lined with small traditional stalls selling a variety of items to the curious tourists who were scattered around the stalls. With ease, Kaoru twisted through the people and made her way to the other end of the street, passing the entrance that would lead to the Sensoji Temple.

She ran over the last few minutes of the conversation in her mind as she passed the various shops and stalls on the lantern-lit streets of Asakusa. Why did Mrs Shimizu warn her against getting obsessed with Battousai? Why her and not the newly-discovered fanatics in the class? Maybe she had an invisible sticker on her head saying, "WARNING! All long-dead Assassins must keep out of the vicinity of this weirdo as she has obsessive and stalkerish tendencies."

She walked swiftly past the sakura trees that lined the banks of the Sumida River. Instead of pink petals covering the trees, there were green leaves. The blossoms had been and gone a few months ago. A cool wind blew from the direction of the river and Kaoru's legs shivered.

"Gods, I could really do with the Battousai's hakama around about now..." She muttered lowly. Comically, she glanced around, hoping that Yuka wasn't in the vicinity. The coast was clear however, and Kaoru sighed. Glad that the girl wasn't nearby to take the comment the wrong way, she wiped the imaginary sweat from her brow with her free hand. Shouldering her bag a bit more, Kaoru continued on her journey. Her lingering mantra followed behind her, unconsciously harmonising with the trickling current of the river that swirled just below her.

_I am not a fan-girl. I am not a fan-girl._

..o..

Kaoru had eventually arrived at the dojo's front gates. It was on the very edge of the district that was once the entertainment capital of Tokyo. Not exactly a bad neighbourhood but not a good one either. She fiddled with her belongings; eventually dumping her bag and umbrella on the ground. She pressed in the security code on the gate. They'd got the system installed last summer after there was a series of break-ins nearby. The light, which was previously red, shined green and a slight buzz was heard. Kaoru's brow twitched as the gate remained shut.

Either her grandfather had changed the code again or the gate was being dodgy.

Kaoru smirked and kicked the gate, hard; it swung open.

Feeling triumphant, she grabbed her umbrella and flung the bag over her shoulder again. She glanced at the old sign at the side of the gate and the odd feeling of nostalgia bubbled up within her stomach. It was a familiar sensation to her; it happened every time she saw the sign. For a while she thought it was a reminder of her father but the feeling had always been there. Shaking her head, she reached over and traced the words with a finger.

_The Kamiya Dojo- The Kamiya Kasshin Style_

She smiled slightly, pushing away her small bout of nostalgia. She was home.

Pushing the gate shut, she turned and was greeted by the sight of the familiar sky blue Suzuki parked in the drive. It was to be hers whenever she learned to drive. She winked at it, before hurrying over to the front door of the dojo. She twirled the excess rain from her umbrella as she stood on the porch, closed it and let herself into the house.

A pair of shoes was kicked off in her wake

..o..

Flicking the wet strands of dark hair out of her face, Kaoru sighed happily. It was good to be home. She dumped her bag and umbrella in the hallway and hung her school jacket up; raindrops from the material dropped onto the wooden floor. The living area of the dojo was relatively warm, well as warm as living with about fifteen shoji screens can be. The central heating did wonders. Ever since her father had died three years ago, it had just been the four of them. But they made do. What else _could_ they do?

Judging from the sounds in the house; her mother was in the kitchen, her grandfather was in the sitting room (most probably getting drunk on sake) and her brother was in his room - doing whatever nine year old boys do.

_Perfect. Now all I have to do is get to the bathroom and have that shower._

Yes, Kaoru was one of those girls who spent hours in the shower; emptying the dojo's hot water supply and probably the rest of Tokyo's as well. Her thoughts were interrupted however by a certain, drunken old man.

"Kaoru, my girl! Where've you been? It's late!"

Refusing the urge to growl, Kaoru sighed and spun around.

"Oh hey, Gramps! Well, you know me! Always do like to dawdle my way through Asakusa in the pouring rain!" She smiled deviously and lifted a finger, as if she had just thought of an idea, "Now, if I could drive that car out there--"

"Not until your 18th birthday, young lady and no earlier!"

The finger and hand dropped back to her side. 'Damn, not drunk enough yet.'

"Kaoru, is that you?" Her mother called from the kitchen.

Looking away from the old man, she replied, "Yeah, mom it's me."

The older woman came into the hallway.

"Hello, dear," she greeted and looked at her father-in-law, "Now come on, Dad. Stop annoying Kaoru and go and get your sake."

"Ahh yes, my sake..." and he tottered off.

Kaoru scratched the back of her head. "Is he going senile, mom?"

Rin Kamiya smiled and looked at the retreating back of the old man. "Well he's been that way for as long as I've known him."

The woman seemed to notice her daughter's appearance for the first time that evening. "Kaoru, you're soaked through! Go and get out of those wet clothes and put them in the laundry basket. I'm sure you have some clean pajamas in your wardrobe. Dinner will be ready by the time you're finished."

Kaoru smiled slightly and started towards her room, the shower could wait-- she was sure she had smelled miso soup earlier.

-

Brown eyes glared at her. And she glared right back. Taking in the floppy black hair, clenched fists and the small snarl his mouth was making. The bane of her existence; her brother, Souta Kamiya.

"It's your turn to do the dishes and that's final, Souta!"

"But it's such a girl's job, please mom, make Kaoru do it!"

An eyebrow twitched. The rugrat had pulled himself away from his playstation for the whole of two minutes to gulp down his soup and now he thought she was going to clean up after him? What a pig...

"Souta, just do it! It's your turn, even check the Rota!"

"Not _my_ problem that I can't read _your _messy handwriting!" Was his smart comeback.

"Shut up, you little monster! I'll wipe your face on that dojo floor, tomorrow!"

"Keh, like to see you try, loser!"

Kaoru's fist clenched. Their mother interrupted however.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. Souta it's your turn to do the dishes but I'll help you, ok?" He nodded. "Kaoru, don't threaten your little brother...and your handwriting's fine."

Kaoru sniffed and walked past Souta, smirking evilly.

_Tomorrow... _she thought; a deadly promise.

-

Kaoru padded past her grandfather, who was sitting by the low table in the sitting room, happily swigging sake. Her thoughts about her oncoming shower were disturbed once again.

"Kaoru..."

_No slur...the sign of an experienced alcoholic..._

"Kaoru, is there something..." He hiccupped, "bothering you?"

She stopped for a moment, looking down at her cold, bare feet._ I wonder..._

The old man had always told her and Souta stories of times bygone. Not that they ever listened. However, they were always of the past, that one thing she was certain of. Sometimes, they were fairytales; like the story of Izanami and Izanagi. Whereas sometimes, they were about things more closer to home.

One time, he had told them that the dojo was built upon the remains of a shrine, which was a bit far-fetched but there was the well-house to consider.

Ah yes, the well-house. It was a pretty thing. Well, pretty for a shack. It sat behind the storage building. They had never been in it however. Something about the estate agent telling her father and grandfather that there were restless spirits about. That's what they call a pitch? Anyway, her dad bought the place but the old man had taken the rumour to heart and so no one ever went in. Well, he never went in because of that. No one else did because the old geezer had pad locked the door and the key hung around his neck. Superstitious much?

Ok, the guy rambled a bit. So what? Kaoru was curious and seemingly she had never heard of the famous saying.

"Yeah, actually Gramps there is," she moved over and kneeled beside him, "Do you know anything about the Bakumatsu?"

His bleary eyes peered at her over the rim of his sake cup.

"Sure I do. The Revolution. Violent, dangerous time--"

"Yeah, yeah, Gramps I know all about that; we learned about it today in history. It brings me to my next question, however. Have you ever heard anything, in all your wise years, about the _Battousai_?"

His name was whispered. Why, she did not know. Perhaps, it was out of hope. Hope that the one person she could ask, the one person that might know anything would know what had happened to him. She looked up and realised he had his eyes downcast. He put his cup steadily onto the table, the dregs of the swirling, clear liquid sloshed against the sides slightly. He looked her in the eye. She almost fell backwards from the balls of her feet when she saw his eyes, however.

Sharp, alert and narrow. All traces of glassiness gone.

Gods, he really was good.

"The assassin, huh? Why do you ask?" He said carefully.

Kaoru blinked and thought over her response. She could still hear her brother and mother chatting while they dried the dishes. The television was on low volume in the corner. She presumed it was the weather channel, complete with a live report from a more than blown away reporter. The shoji door that led out to the yard was hammered shut but it still rattled relentlessly. Towels and blankets would probably get shoved beneath such doors to keep the drafts out later on that night.

Kaoru looked back to his stony eyes.

"Uhh we learned about him in History?" She offered with a shrug, trying to keep her voice as casual as possible.

Nodding, he brought his hand to his goatee, swirling it between his fingers, presumably thinking on his next words.

"I...know of him." Was all he said.

Opening her mouth, ready to bombard him with questions, she froze when he raised his hand.

"Hush, I shall tell you what I know. Only, because you are my granddaughter and I would never hear the end of it."

Kaoru nodded and opened her mouth again.

"I take it you are wondering about the events following the First Battle of Toba Fushimi?"

Kaoru's eyes opened wide and she nodded vigorously, bringing her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms around her ankles. She was ready to know. She _had_ to know.

-

"I first learned about him when I was just a boy. My grandfather, you see, had met the Battousai. Or so he claimed anyway. Although it was never recorded, the hitokiri lived on, indeed he did. Lived on, in this very dojo--!"

"Oh Gramps, come off it! I actually believed you there!" Kaoru laughed, at both him and herself. Him, because he was so predictable and her because she was being so gullible.

_Obviously he was going to come out with something like that! It's Gramps, for God's sake._

"It is the truth! My grandfather told me that the Battousai took refuge in a dojo many years after the Bakumatsu had ended. At the time, it was owned by a beautiful young woman who was proficient in a protection sword technique. The sword technique she claimed as the Kamiya Kasshin style."

Kaoru looked at him skeptically.

"Okay, one: your grandfather met him and lived to tell the tale? Two: Dad bought this dojo a few years before I was born, so it couldn't have been our technique and three: there are plenty of dojos in Tokyo!"

The old man nodded.

"Right you are my dear, right you are. I have pondered this for many years myself. Never once did I mention this story to your father, so imagine my surprise when he invented the style. And yes, there are many dojos in Tokyo, Kaoru. But how many teach our technique?"

"One," she muttered.

"Yes. One."

Kaoru frowned. This wasn't very productive at all.

"Oh, and did I ever tell you that the name plaque by the gates was already there to begin with?" The burden of fate turned uncomfortably in Kaoru's stomach, "That it was there long before your father even dreamed of buying this dojo?"

-

Scalding water poured over her head and shoulders. The pressure was bruising. Her hand reached through the steam and messed with the knobs, in hope of regaining some semblance of clarity. _How could it be? The old codger must have gotten it wrong, right?_

"_But, Dad invented that technique when he was a teenager! How could the plaque have been there already?!"_

"_That I do not know, my dear. But it was there. That day we first visited the Dojo, it was there. Your father thought it a fluke, but I never. Tomorrow, when it is light, look at the plaque. Look carefully in the top left hand corner and you will believe too. It means something, Kaoru. It was there for a reason..."_

_How could our family name and the technique already be on the plaque?_ It was just illogical. Sure, there could be another Kamiya family out there and it wouldn't be too out of the question for them to perhaps have owned the dojo too. But to use a technique that her father_ invented?_ No way and her father was an honorable man. He would never take another's swordsmanship and pass it off as his own.

_Don't even think on it, Kamiya._ And she didn't.

She could doubt many things, but she could never doubt her father. The one who gave her, her first bokken, who taught her that a sword should protect and not kill. The person who invented the Kasshin style. No, she would never doubt her father.

Now, the Battousai was another matter. She had already known that he hadn't committed seppuku as soon as he stepped of that battlefield, but to come to this dojo? That was just mad.

Scary even...

Not just because an assassin may have slept in her room...

But also incase this ever got out - the Battousai's entire fan-club would be at the door, ready to lick something. Kaoru shivered, despite the heat of the shower. That was it, this was never getting out.

-

After a few more minutes of soaking (that turned into half an hour), Kaoru jumped out of the shower and promptly got into her flannel pajamas. The storm was still raging outside, she had surmised. Walking over to the mirror, she kicked the damp towels out of the way. She wiped the major build-up of condensation off the mirror with her sleeve, and peered into it, beneath the bathroom's unforgiving light.

_Ahh I look dead! I need to get more sleep; it must be all this cramming._

She pulled her wet, stringy hair into a wrap and brushed her teeth vigorously. Throwing the towels into the washing basket, she quickly made her way out of the bathroom and along the corridor, towards her bedroom.

The whole dojo had been refurbished when she had been born. Originally, all the buildings had been separate and her father hadn't liked the thought of them running about outside to go to the bathroom, so he called in builders to add conjoining hallways between all the buildings; except the storage building since it was hardly used.

Still, the actual bathroom was remodeled on the dojo's original bathhouse so it was still quite far away from her bedroom, at the other end of the main house. Her quick, bare footed steps slapped along the wooden floors. She heard the wind howl and she wrapped her arms around herself.

_There's so much mystery shrouding this place that I never even knew about...was it really a coincidence that we learned about the Battousai and that he was once here? The latter is yet to be proved but...I guess I'll never know the truth..._

It looked as if Kaoru wasn't very familiar with popular sayings at all.

She passed the shoji screens that faced onto the yard; all tucked with blankets. The rain was falling heavier than ever. Eventually getting to her door, she pulled it open with difficulty and then tripped over the blanket at her feet. Growling, she kicked the annoyance out of the way and made it into her room. The door closed behind her with a _click _of finality.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she replaced the blanket and undid her hair from the wrap. Moving over to her vanity, she grabbed an elastic band that was sitting on top and deftly braided her ebony hair, leaving it to hang over her right shoulder. Brushing her bangs out of her face, she promptly fell into her bed.

It was a nice bed; wide and comfy, just perfect in her opinion.

Her grandfather was the only one in the family to sleep on a futon. But she had a feeling that that was going to change with his back playing up all the time. Climbing under the sheets, she settled down and slid an arm under her head.

_History is...the study of the past. Battousai the Manslayer fought in Kyoto for the Ishin-Shishi. To fuel his lust for blood and battle?_ She sighed and watched the changing shadows on the ceiling. _No, he fought...to bring about the Meiji Era; a time of peace and prosperity for the people of Japan. Or did he?_

Kaoru smiled, either way she was acing that part of the history exam. Her expression changed when she remembered that she and Souta had lessons to give the next morning.

_I hate Saturdays..._

Out of habit, she raised her head slightly to check that her bokken was still in the corner of the room. It was. Good.

Now, she could sleep.

-

_**Creeeaaaaaakkkk...**_

Her eyes shot open and she stared at the familiar surface of her ceiling. It almost seemed to calm her racing heart. Her breath, however, was still caught tightly in her throat. She looked over the covers into the dark abyss that was her room. It was as empty as it was when she'd fallen asleep. Frowning, she sat up. The haunting sound still echoed within the confines of her mind.

_Okay I know that it's probably just a tree hitting off the building but_-- _**Creeeaaaaaakkk...**_

_--that's driving me _insane_!_

Throwing her legs over the side of her bed, Kaoru pulled on her slippers and grabbed her silky house-cloak and bokken. Time to go kick some tree ass...

-

_Okay, maybe this was a bad idea._

She was standing in the hall now. Her bokken held at her side. The shoji screens were filled with shadows and flashes of light from the storm outside. It had obviously developed some lightning over the past few hours. The dark slashes between the light and the dark, on the shoji screens, reminded Kaoru rather disturbingly of blood splashed walls.

_I've really should stop watching those late-night movies._

Glancing at the screen to her right that led into her grandpa's room, she frowned.

_He wasn't lying earlier, right? He babbles a bit but he doesn't lie, well at least not intentionally..._

His soft snores were heard. Kaoru shook her head. This was neither the time nor the place. And she walked on silent feet down the hall, towards the sitting room.

-

With practiced grace, she edged her way around the corner and poked her head out.

The sitting room was empty.

The television was off although she'd probably need to pull the plug out, what with 'The Ring' and all that. The vision of the long haired girl coming from the tv screen was most definitely _not _the thing to be thinking of at this precise time. It was a few summers ago that the girls had dragged her to see the movie and it was soon afterwards that her bokken had taken up permanent residence in her bedroom. Pulling away from the dangerous thoughts, Kaoru focused on brighter things: such as her grandpa's empty sake bottle that sat on the table. Hardly the Evil Sake Bottle of Doom. The wind continued to howl.

_**Creeeaaaaaakkkk...**_

She gasped and the wooden sword left her hand and hit of the floor. All was still for a minute.

_If Mom or Gramps find me now, I'll be cross-examined for a week!_

Looking around, she slowly crouched and picked up the bokken with a sweat slicked hand. The noise was coming from outside, as she had originally presumed. Glancing back down the hall, she looked for any signs of life; none were forthcoming.

Nodding, she moved stealthily across the sitting room, wincing whenever her slippers scuffed against the floor. She passed the kitchen; all was dark and quiet except for the buzzing from the radiators and the orange lights from the various plug sockets. She really didn't want to go into the main dojo. It was freaky at night; no light was let in, making it pitch black. With that thought, she passed the hallway that led to the dojo and made her way out to the yard.

Tightening her grip on the bokken, she slid the door open and stepped out onto the porch. Everything was silent except for the sheets of rain that fell. No thunder could be heard and the lightning had passed over and was sparking some miles in the distance. However, the chill never stopped running down her spine. Something was very wrong. She looked at the wind chime that hung by the door; still as the dead, in the middle of a storm, not one bead moved.

_How can it--_

_**Creeeaaaaaakkkk...**_

She spun around with wide eyes, seeking out the cause of the dreaded sound. It wasn't a tree - it was coming from behind the storage building.

She gulped and tried to hold her bokken tighter but her muscles wouldn't allow it.

_This is the perfect recipe for a horror movie. Why do I have to be the victim? Okay, calm. You can do this Kamiya! You aren't the assistant master of this dojo for nothing!_

Filled with false bravado, she closed the door, pulled her cloak tighter around her and headed off into the night.

-

_The well-house door is open-- My slippers are soaked!_ And the well-house door is open!

Kaoru leaned against the wall of the storage building, shivering. _I am not going around there. I've got wet slippers and wet hair and there's no chance in hell that I'm going into that well-house..._

She pushed her soaked bangs away from her face. She felt a stream of water descend from her forehead and make its way down the bridge of her nose. _I can't do this...it's stupid, it's probably nothing, it's--_

A small _miaow _echoed from inside the wellhouse.

"Buyo!" she said aloud to herself. The family cat, the _fat _family cat. How could she not have missed him before? Looking over to the wellhouse which had its door slid open half-way, she thought over her options.

_Leave the cat for dead, and go back to bed. Not an option. Save the cat and face the forces of darkness._ She glanced at the stick in her hand and was vaguely reminded of an old video game that Souta had played repeatedly with the volume of his TV blasted up so high that the neighbors had complained. _Feel the Force, huh? Why can't I have a light saber instead of a bokken, then?! Oh yeah, the sword that protects. Damn..._

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she knew what she had to do, and it wasn't bad movie or video game puns _or_ the breaking of the whole meaning behind her father's swordsmanship. Taking a deep breath, she edged over to the wellhouse. The wind seemed to be pushing her towards it; whipping against her back. She frowned slightly as her teeth chattered. How could the wellhouse be open anyway? Didn't her grandpa have it locked up like since...forever?

She tried to shake off the ominous feeling that had overcome her, and instead, she held her bokken tightly with both hands and kept moving across the muddy ground. On peering in, there was darkness. There was also a set of stairs in front of her.

"Buyo?" she whispered. There was no answer. She frowned and tried again.

"_Buyo_?"

'_Miaow'_

There it was. But, why wasn't he coming out? Rolling her eyes at the enigma that is cats, she edged through the door and stumbled down the stairs; bokken held in front of her.

-

Now, if Kaoru was a logical person, she would have picked up the cat and left the wellhouse. She would have told her grandpa what had happened the next morning and he would have relocked its door.

But Kaoru wasn't a logical person.

She was brave and impulsive.

And when she would look back and remember the night where she first glimpsed the well, she would wonder if she could have turned away and walked back up the stairs. But fate has a funny way of doing things, and Kaoru's curiosity was just one of those things.

-

"Buyo, you naughty boy, what are you doing in here?" She asked the cat as he weaved in and out of her legs.

It was cold. _So_ cold. Her breath came out in wisps and her ears felt detached from her body. Her hands were numb but still holding on loosely to the stick. The odd, musky smell of old, wet wood filtered around her breathing space. There was something definitely off with this place. The patter of raindrops could still be heard from outside.

She looked towards the well that sat a few feet away from her. Usually, wells of a particular age were boarded up for preservation purposes. Before coming into the wellhouse, Kaoru could have bet her right arm that her grandfather had boarded the thing up. However, she would now be known as One-Armed Kaoru; the well was as open and unfilled as the day it had been made. It was disturbing on some level. She looked back to the troublesome cat.

"Come on mister, I'm missing out on my beauty sleep for you." And she pushed his butt slightly with her bokken, moving him towards the stairs.

She smirked as the obese cat pulled itself up the stairs. He needed the exercise. Badly. As she was about to start up the stairs, she felt a pull from behind her. Like a hand had grabbed onto her spine and twisted it. The air seemed to still and her breathing became shallow as the empty feeling in her chest intensified. Turning slowly, her senses sharpened.

Something was there. Not quite a presence like she'd been taught to sense in swordsmanship. Not ki. Just _something. _Something that should not be in a previously locked-up dojo wellhouse. How she wished she could just run up the stairs after the cat and scream to the heavens. But she had come this far...

Adrenaline and courage built up within her. The same feeling she would have before sparring or when taking a test at school. Moving with precision, she held her bokken with both hands. The surge of courage seemed to come from nowhere.

_If the girl from the Ring comes out now, I'm ready for her._

She peered over the edge of the well. Nothing, until...

_**Creeeaaaaaakkkk**_

And since these moments in life can not be repeated, Kaoru Kamiya would forever wonder if she would have fixed her slipper before she had moved or if she would have pulled the bottom of her pants up...

_...before it was too late..._

And the blue light surrounded her. Before Kaoru could even register what had happened, she was floating. Disbelief was pitted deep within her stomach as she was enveloped by the light.

The only thing she was sure that was real, was the bokken held tightly in her hand.

And the rest was history.

-

It was dark, that much was certain. Sitting up, her aching body gave resistance as a result of lying on the cold, hard ground. Her hand hit against something that rolled slightly. She picked it up and brought it to her face. It was her bokken.

The previous disorientation that had clouded her mind fled, and she _remembered._

_Of unforgiving storms and doors that should never be opened and missing cats and wells and blue lights and..._

Now she was here. Where ever here was. She looked up; it was like a tunnel. And at the top, there was a wooden roof.

She was at the bottom of the well.

-

After feeling around, she came across vines. Vines that she was certain had not been sprouting from the well before. But all that didn't matter right now; she had to get out of here.

Heaving herself up, she shoved her bokken between her teeth and used both hands to climb. Her foot slipped a few times on the moist wall and her fingers scraped the wood as she pulled herself up. And when she finally got to the top, she heaved a sigh of relief before she swung her leg over the edge.

Looking around, she realised everything was the same and everything was fine, apart from--

The door was closed.

And she had been certain that she had left it open.

_Maybe, the wind blew it shut?_

So, in a daze, she climbed the stairs and pulled the door open. It wasn't locked, she noted. And she was once again facing the back wall of the storage building. Everything was alright again. And then she noticed the sky.

The clear, star-filled sky. There were stars there, not storm clouds...and it felt wrong.

It felt wrong because there should be storm clouds there, but there wasn't. Instead, there were beautiful, innocent stars, spread across impossibly black velvet that seemed to go on for miles. Unending. It was completely natural. Yet, it was not. Kaoru had not seen such a clear night in a long time; the smog and pollution of the city covered the sky most of the time.

_How long was I out?_

And then a voice broke her reverie and everything else Kaoru Kamiya thought was true and right.

-

"What are you doing here?"

A calming baritone with the slightest rough undercurrent. She turned to look at him, under the starlight. She couldn't breathe for a moment.

He looked so calm, so wonderfully calm. And he looked different...and yet he didn't. But what expectations did she really have? She didn't know him. But she did.

His hair was red but it was tied low and his eyes were violet. _But once upon a time, weren't they gold?_

And was that a scar?

But she wasn't sure; everything was just out of focus.

"Who are you?" she asked helplessly, her bokken held limply and forgotten at her side. Her traitorous mind picked at her thoughts. _'If he says_ your worse nightmare_, then I am so out of here..._

But he didn't. He just smiled. A sad smile, her mind murmured but her thoughts were scattered. And all was silent; except for the cicadas' elegant songs and the whistling rustle of windblown trees. She hadn't noticed the sounds before. Or perhaps she had, but they had been swept from her mind before she could acknowledge their existence. The uneasy feeling that had been growing inside of her for the past few minutes seemed to drop even further into her stomach. Then he spoke again.

"I am just a wanderer, Miss. A simple Rurouni."

And then she smiled back slowly, glad that he hadn't said the other name. The one she wanted to hear and yet didn't. Seconds passed. Perhaps minutes. Time was irrelevant...because it was a dream.

She didn't feel herself backing up towards the wellhouse again.

"It's a lovely night. But I think a storm's coming, that I do," the man, the wanderer, said while gazing up at the stars.

Her fingertips scraped the sides of the familiar wooden door and she stumbled backwards, down the stairs. It wasn't real, but she would still ask.

"Are you the Battousai?"

He stood at the door now and looked at her with those shocked lavender eyes.

She smiled softly, "My name is Kaoru."

And her knees hit the edge of the well and she tipped over once again.

"_Kaoru_..."

She thought she heard him repeat her name again and then perhaps some shuffled footsteps coming towards her. Perhaps even hurried footsteps, but she wasn't sure because...she was already gone.

And the blue light engulfed her once again.

-

There is a moment before one truly awakens, when nothing is real and everything is feeling. Fingers twist slightly in cotton bed-sheets, scrunching the material and then smoothing it. Eyes flicker but do not open. Limbs are heavy and heads more so. This is also the time when the memories of dreams disperse from the mind. Some are forgotten completely and are sealed away in boxes that are never re-opened. Some are remembered vividly and can be recalled at the drop of a hat. While some...

Light poured into the sides of Kaoru Kamiya's eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and it was a challenge to open them. The early morning sunlight streamed through the gap in her curtains. Dragging her forearm across her eyes, she sighed slightly before turning onto her stomach and pressing her face into the cool pillow. A soft mutter of eternal annoyance was heard. Turning to glance at her unset alarm clock, she realised that she had about an hour before the students arrived.

_Damn..._ She wriggled out of the covers, thus ensuing the daily fight. She stopped only to rub her eyes and yawn in a breath catching manner.

_What did I dream about last night? I think it was a guy but..._

She giggled, and looked down. And her eyes widened and her smile dropped.

The mud was caked up her leg and smeared across her bed sheets. Shifting her arms, she felt something hard. Shakily, she reached under the blankets, hoping to God that she wouldn't find what she was looking for. But she found it.

Her bokken.

Perhaps it hadn't been a dream after all...

-


	3. II: Leap of Faith

**Chapter II  
**Leap of Faith

_The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.  
_**Dorothy Parker**

She stared at the bokken in her hand for a lifetime; her face a picture of wonder and disbelief. A bird chirped from outside in the yard, filling the cool air with a peaceful calm that seemed ironic in contrast to the previous evening's storm and of what was going on inside Kaoru's head.

"How...how can this be?" she wondered aloud, slowly relaxing her arm; leaving it to flop down onto the bed, bokken and all.

She looked around at the familiar setting of her bedroom, before gazing down at her dirty pajama bottoms; coloured with grass stains and reddish-brown clay from the yard. She strained to remember the not-so-dream from the night before; her head started to ache from the concentration so early in the morning.

_There was the well and the light...and a man...what was he doing at the dojo in the middle of the night, anyway?_

So many questions raced through her mind. She pulled herself warily out of the covers and sat on the edge of her bed. Her hands tensed on her cloth-covered thighs. If she indeed had had a little trip down the well, then how the hell had she gotten from there to here with no recollection of the journey whatsoever? She frowned and stood up shakily; her legs not quite steady enough to take her weight. Reaching down, Kaoru rubbed her calves tenderly and winced. _Sore muscles...perhaps from a jarring impact with the ground?_ On standing up straight again, her head spun slightly from the reaction of her body moving before her brain anticipated it. Pressing a palm firmly to her forehead, Kaoru sighed and waited for the moment to pass.

_This is just not my day..._

Shaking her head, she half-limped over to the window and pulled the curtain back slowly. After her eyes adjusted to the bluish-white light, she peered outside; lifting her arms above her head in an impromptu stretch. Everything was fine, Kaoru noted. A strange feeling of déjà vu overcame her at the familiarity of that phrase. However, she shook it off because everything _was _fine. The Sun was pouring through the branches and over the top of the trees, the yard was empty and the wind chime by the porch door moved and tinkled in harmony with the early-morning breeze. If she listened hard enough, she could even make out the morning rush of traffic heading towards the city centre.

The mechanical sounds mixed with the songs of the many morning birds, which inhabited the nearby trees.

The rudimentary 'nice day' weather characteristics were present; a blue sky with scatterings of fluffy, white clouds. The small wisps of wind that came through the edges of the window frame were cold and fresh.

Kaoru moved one hand unconsciously and held it gently against the window pane, before frowning in thought.

_Why can't I remember what happened after going into the well house? Is there a reason that I'm unconsciously blocking the events?_ Her eyes widened and she pulled her hand away from the cold glass as if she had been burned. Before she could ponder it further a pair of sock-covered feet padded along the hall and stopped at her door.

Sliding the shoji screen open, the older woman's eyes bulged at the sight of her daughter.

"Kaoru, you're awake!"

She watched with wide, confused eyes as her mother dropped the bundle, of what appeared to be bed sheets, and ran over to her before grabbing her by the shoulders.

"I uhh--"

She was cut off when her mother pulled her into a tight, crushing hug that bordered on uncomfortable. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?! I thought your grandfather was going to have a heart attack. I…We…Oh, Kaoru!"

The older woman's feverish whisper dissolved as her voice cracked. Alarmed at the wet warmth that now covered the collar of her top, Kaoru tried to turn and see her mother's face but she only burrowed further into the crook of her neck.

"It was your grandfather who found you. And when I saw you…you were so still and…I thought we'd lost you and…"

Placing her hands on the older woman's shoulder blades, Kaoru held her gently.

"Mom, slow down and start from the beginning because I have absolutely no idea about what's going on. I feel fine though, well to be truthful I feel like I've been hit by a bus but that's nothing out of the ordinary for a Saturday morning." She gave a rueful smile as her mother sniffed. Thoughts of the previous night welled up within her and she decided to take a wild guess. "Is this to do with the well house?"

Her mother pulled away suddenly, and looked her in the eye.

Kaoru noticed belatedly that her usually bouncy and cropped ebony hair seemed to have lost its shine. It was twisted and separated in places that gave the impression of having fingers ran through it too many times. She was dressed in her usual style of skirt and blouse however they appeared to have been flung on, as if in a hurry.

After studying her daughter with a critical eye, Mrs. Kamiya moved her over to the bed and pushed her shoulders down until she was sitting on the bed; Kaoru gave little resistance. She watched as her mother wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sat beside her on the bed. She began to fiddle idly with a loose thread on the hem of her skirt.

"Kaoru. Your grandfather found you this morning. At the bottom of the well, unconscious. It took Souta and our new neighbor, Mr Nakajima to bring you up. They laid you out on the well-house floor and Mr Nakajima checked you over - he's a med student, I believe- anyway, he said that your breathing was normal and there was no sign of any broken bones. The only reason you're not in hospital is because of the power cut from last night's storm. Your brother and grandfather have gone to get Doctor Fujiwara. I was just about to go to the neighbors and ask if they could drive us to the hospital -"

"Mom, that's not needed."

"So you say dear, but you could have hurt your head and it might have repercussions later on."

"We can let Doctor Fujiwara be the judge of that. Listen, you know how hospitals are these days. They'll never believe that I fell down the well. At least we trust Fujiwara and he won't cast judgement or anything like that."

Her mother sniffed in agreement. "However, that begs the question, how did you even get into the well house? And why were you out in the storm in the first place?"

She frowned. _What can I say?_ Oh, by the way Mom, you know those spirits that Gramps is always going on about? Yeah, well they're real and they opened the door for me_. That would go down well...And why was I outside? Fancied a walk. Yep. And Buyo can be my alibi. Yeah, riiiight.'_

"Well…" Kaoru bit her bottom lip. She couldn't say that the night was a blur because then she really would be carted off to the hospital. And right into the psyche ward while they were at it. "I'd been woken up by a noise and went to investigate it. I heard Buyo from inside the well house and the door was already open...I didn't really think about it at the time."

The older woman looked at her, sternly.

"So, you were saving Buyo. And I thought you would have learned not to investigate noises from the amount of horror movies you've seen." Kaoru gave a sheepish look. "But…how did you end up down the well?"

Kaoru froze. She couldn't very well tell her mother that she had felt a presence in the well and had stuck her head over the top, only to fall in and...Well, she'd call her a nut-case. She fingered her thick plait that was surprisingly still intact and hanging over her right shoulder.

"Well...I sort of slipped."

"You sort of slipped…and this just so happened to be beside the well? Your swordsman reflexes not help you there?"

"Swordswoman. And no, it happened too fast."

The older woman sighed and pulled her daughter into a one-armed embrace. "That's my Kaoru. Feminist, through and through, eh?"

"Damn straight!" Her mother coughed. "I mean, yeah that's me."

"Good. I still don't believe that you feel fine. No one could take that fall and not have a bruise or two. Not even a master of kendo."

"_Assistant master_, if you please." And they both grinned. Her mother's was slightly watery but it was her first true smile of the day, nonetheless.

And the Case was hopefully closed. Just another thing to be added to the category of 'the Weirdness that Goes On at the Kamiya Dojo'. Her mother would probably interrogate the old man later about the door. As the older woman stood up and moved over to Kaoru's wardrobe, the young kendo instructor watched her movements, quietly. _She's obviously not going to believe a word I say, so I might as well let her think what she wants for the moment._ She let out a soft sigh as her mother walked over with some clean pajamas.

"Doctor Fujiwara and the rest of them will be back in a few minutes. I still don't see how you didn't break anything from that fall..." she muttered while pushing the clothes into her arms, and signaling for her to change.

Kaoru shrugged, "Maybe something broke my fall..."

_Like a freaky blue light..._

Mrs. Kamiya shook her head and gave her daughter a gentle push towards the changing screen in the corner of the room. She stared at the bed for a few seconds, before getting down to her task. She listened to her daughter's shuffled movements from behind the screen, still feeling numb with disbelief. She had watched too many TV dramas where something miraculous happened and then suddenly, the person would wake up and the miracle hadn't happened and everything was most definitely _not _fine. And yet, Kaoru was real. Her eyes were bright; a bait a little hazy from sleep, her smile was beautiful and as catching as it always was and the soft sound of her moving around not a foot away from her were all very real. The coolness that had taken over Riko Kamiya's veins for the last half an hour had melted and warmth flowed once again. The thought of losing her child, so soon after her husband…was terrifying.

The power cut of the morning had only added to the irony of the situation.

She thought back to when they had carried Kaoru into the house. The only outward sign of her varying consciousness had been the mumbling of words that her mother couldn't quite catch and her tense grip on the bokken that they couldn't get her to let go off.

She stripped the sheets from the bed methodically. Inside, she wished that she could strip the events of the morning from her memory just as easily.

_Oh my foolish girl, one day that recklessness of yours is going to cause you serious harm._

-

Kaoru was also lost in thought.

_I was definitely awake when I went out to the yard but...it's kind of sketchy after that._ Presuming that she _had_ fell down the well after finding the cat, maybe she _had_ dreamed the rest of it up. Maybe she had hit her head and was just knocked out. It would make sense. But…it had just felt so different from other dreams. Dreams were supposed to be weird and impossible; like stairways that lead to nowhere…they weren't supposed to feel so _real_.

_I do remember there being a guy there. It's so blurry, though…maybe he was Batt--_

The scale was tipped towards dreamland again. Her damn fixation with the guy was getting out of hand. Who could have guessed that just one little photograph could cause so much trouble. But then again, hadn't Mrs. Shimizu warned her against this? But...that didn't matter right now. She was certain that she'd said something to the man…and that he'd said something back. Probably something along the lines of, 'Hey Battousai!' 'Alright, Kaoru!' Or maybe not. Friendly small talk with deceased assassins would probably be classed as insane.

_But what did the guy say?!_

But Kaoru couldn't remember.

The details that had never been clear in the first place were slipping through her fingers. Like a handful of water; no matter how tightly she tried to enclose it...it just kept on seeping through. She tried to visualize him; she could see his hair, red and tied low. His face...it was blurry to her memory but she knew that it was marred, somehow. However, such a flaw didn't destroy his visage in the way it should have. She strained to remember his voice, but it was only a buzz in the recesses of her memory. She wasn't even sure if the Battousai had been mentioned at all anymore. _Gods, Kamiya. Time to crack out the medication..._

"Stupid Kaoru," she muttered as she walked out from behind the screen, her thoughts filled with violet eyes that should have been gold, and legendary names from days bygone.

-

"Thanks for coming at such short notice, Doctor Fujiwara." Mrs. Kamiya greeted the elderly man with a bow, on the porch. Souta and the elder Kamiya bustled past her, eager to see Kaoru. "I'm afraid Kaoru had an accident last night--"

"Yes, Souta said. They didn't go into detail though, only that it was urgent."

"Well, it _was_. She somehow managed to fall down the well and--"

"The well?!" He looked as if he was about to drop his briefcase.

She sighed. Fujiwara was an excellent doctor but she sometimes thought his mind was going, even more so than her father-in-law's.

"Yes, Doctor Fujiwara: the well. She was unconscious when we recovered her this morning but she woke up while the men were fetching you. She says she's fine and in no pain--"

"Well, I shall be the judge of that, Mrs. Kamiya. Have no fear though, little Kaoru shall be up and about in no time."

"She's seventeen, Doctor Fujiwara."

"Seventeen?! Ahh, how time flies...I remember when she was just this big." He indicated with his free hand to an empty space above his knee.

Mrs. Kamiya smiled and they made their way through the corridors and into Kaoru's bedroom. On sliding open the door, they were greeted by the sight of Souta and the old man chatting animatedly with the young kendo instructor, who was lying stretched out on her bed. Kaoru was soon alerted to their presence and smiled cheerfully at them, giving away none of her earlier thoughts.

-

"You sure you're alright, Kaoru?" Souta asked from his place on the side of her bed. She smiled at the concern in his voice.

"Never better, kiddo. Where's Mr. Nakajima? I wanted to say thanks."

"Oh, he had to go do something, but he said he'd come around later to see how you're doing."

"Jeez, you lot are acting like I almost died or something," she said with a half-laugh, while turning onto her side and bracing her head with her hand.

"You almost did! But never fear, the spirits are becoming more active but I shall not let them take my one and only granddaughter!"

The two younger Kamiya's stared at the old man, who still had his hand held up in conviction, with blank looks on their faces.

"So, anyway..." Souta drawled but was cut off by the opening of the door and the appearance of their mother and a familiar figure.

Doctor Fujiwara was Kaoru and Souta's childhood doctor. A portly man with a silver moustache and goatee that was acquainted with his generation. He had kind, coffee-coloured eyes that reminded Kaoru more of bowls of melted chocolate than coffee when she was younger. However, he always wore a charcoal coloured suit, in contrast to her grandfather's navy hakama and haori, she'd noted.

"Hey Doc!" she called to him happily with a slight grin. He returned her greeting with a warm smile and toddled over to the foot of bed; laying his briefcase down there, as Souta moved out of the way.

"I heard you had a little accident, my dear. How are you feeling?" He was fiddling around with his medical utensils while he asked her.

"I'm good, Doc. Honestly, something must have broken my fall because I feel fine."

A thought suddenly occurred to Kaoru, and it surprised her that she hadn't thought of it before. _If I fell down the well, and that is from quite a height, how the hell do I at least not have a headache? Or a concussion? The weirdness just doesn't end._

"Well you certainly look fine. Are you sure, though? No minor aches or pains? No headache?" He was frowning, while he got out his stethoscope. "Breathing difficulties?"

"Nope, nope and nope," she smiled. There wouldn't be much point in mentioning the cramp in her leg from earlier; after all, it had passed fairly quickly. 'All those years of kendo practice and mastering the Kamiya Kasshin style have finally paid off!' she thought smugly.

The old doctor sighed after giving her a quick check-over.

"Well, Mrs. Kamiya, nothing seems to be wrong with her. She had one or two bruises on her legs but they're rather old and were probably procured from kendo." He then looked back to Kaoru, who was now sitting on the edge of her bed. "Kaoru, I don't see how you managed it but despite your fall, you seem to be in perfectly good health."

"So…does that mean I get to take part in the lessons today?"

This would be the point where everyone else in the room falls over, anime-style.

Mrs. Kamiya only frowned. She didn't really want Kaoru to be up and about yet, let alone swinging her bokken around. She sighed in defeat however, from the determined look on her daughter's face. She knew that even if Fujiwara said no, Kaoru would never let Souta take the class and would interrupt continuously to correct his stances.

"I don't see why not. Just don't do anything too strenuous and make sure you take a rest every once and a while. If any of your muscles start playing up or you feel dizzy, don't hesitate to call me." He answered while lifting his briefcase. "Oh, and I'd lock up that well-house extra tight from now on, in case the little Miss decides to go for another wander."

Kaoru smiled slightly as the tense atmosphere of the room dissipated. She froze, however, when she happened to look down at her fingernails. Her breath caught as she stared. Everyone in the room seemed oblivious while they thanked Doctor Fujiwara and showed him out. She distantly heard Souta leave the room last and her grandfather muttering about missing padlocks. Her mother's voice echoed through the screen; she was probably trying to persuade Doctor Fujiwara that they still needed to send her to hospital.

"Yeah, bye Doc..." she murmured quietly, still looking strangely at her fingers. It amazed her that she hadn't noticed them before.

There. Underneath every nail...was dirt. Dirt from climbing up the well.

Things began to add up within Kaoru's mind, as her eyes moved away from her fingernails and over to the open window. Slowly but surely, the chess pieces of fate and destiny moved across the board. The stage was set and the actors were ready to play their parts. The Gods were-- okay, this is getting overly dramatic, but you get the picture. Somehow, the blurry memory of the star-lit night had not been a dream.

-

"Alright, class dismissed. I'll see you all on Tuesday!" Kaoru called as her students filed out of the dojo. She may grumble about it, but she really did love teaching kendo. She upheld her father's sword style and motto religiously and proudly taught it to others. One day, she hoped to pass it onto her own children as well. Of course, the added bonus of kicking Souta's ass was enough to take her mind off her many troubles; mainly that of a certain well.

It was just another thing to add to her ever growing list of 'weirdness that needs to be investigated,' along with the name plaque dilemma. Everything had gotten funky after that damn history class. Legendary assassins who seemingly used to hang around the dojo, creaky well houses that house even weirder wells, lost memories…it was enough for Kaoru to begin questioning her sanity. With the amount of things she was going to have to look into, Kaoru may as well have added 'Inspector' to her name.

_Inspector Kaoru Kamiya. That has one hell of a ring to it. Okay, let's just go with the logical answer: I'm being punk'd. Or maybe not..._ The American prank show, which had been a craze among the girls at school a few years before, didn't usually pick on scrawny, Japanese girls who play with swords. And wooden ones at that.

If you could believe it, life at the dojo used to be relatively normal. The weekend lessons, school, studying, going out with her friends...the average life of a seventeen year old kendo teacher/schoolgirl. The dojo had seen better days, right enough. Its popularity had peaked when her father was teaching but after he died...things went downhill. For one, the teacher was now a girl, a teenage one at that. Two, there were so many dojos in Tokyo that all taught styles that were considerably older than the Kamiya Kasshin, some going back generations, meaning that they may sound more respectable. However, Kaoru always believed that since sword fighting wasn't used by the military anymore and was seen as more of a sport, that her family's style would appeal to many people since its ideals were based on protecting yourself and others. That was why many of the students were women seeking to learn self-defence.

It was the 23rd of September, today. The Autumnal Equinox. It had surprised her when she noticed the date on the calendar. Her mother had given her a queer look. Kaoru could tell that she was now under suspicion of being amnesiac, but it truly had gone out of her mind. They were going to visit her father and grandmother's graves later that day. Yuka had called soon after Doctor Fujiwara had left and said that the library was going to be open this weekend, despite the holiday, since the high-school and College Entrance exams were coming up. Her friends were going in on Sunday, so Kaoru thought it best to do her research away from prying eyes.

She re-tied her ponytail higher up on her head and brushed her sweat-soaked bangs out of her eyes, before reaching down to pick up another bokken from the floor. She would have time for a quick shower before she headed out to the library to do her research. Namely on the Battousai. She needed to know if there was anymore information on him and the dusty shelves of Yotsuya Library was just the place to have that sort of thing. She'd probably have a look on the internet as well if she had time. Souta had killed their computer a few months ago, so the library was Kaoru's only available internet source.

_It closes at three. I'd better hurry up,_ she thought while picking up another stick._ I can't wait to get out of these clothes; they're practically sticking to me._ The shoji screen rattled behind her and she turned to see who it was, while dusting off her navy hakama.

Souta came back into the dojo, a shinai propped up against his shoulder. A scowl marred his face, as he leant against the wall where she was stacking the wooden swords.

"Was there something you wanted, brother dearest?" She loved teasing the boy. He would always rise to the bait.

"Ah, shaddup. I can't believe you floored me in front of all those students!" His voice had raised a few syllables and Kaoru felt bad. They both knew that he was going to be a great kendo practitioner when he was older. Probably even better than her. However, he had a little trouble remembering who the assistant master of the dojo was, and it sure as hell wasn't him.

"Souta, you had it coming. You weren't even listening to me when I started the lesson!"

"That was because you were going through the basic kata and I can do them blindfolded!"

"Well it doesn't make a very good impression on the other students when their teacher's own brother doesn't even pay attention to her."

They glared at each other for a minute.

"Well, _you_ were a million miles away during the _whole _lesson. A girl had been calling for you for five minutes and you were just staring at the motto plaque on the wall. I helped her out in the end. Are you sure you're alright, Kaoru? Got a screw loose in there or something?"

Kaoru froze._ I did that? I zoned out?_

"Souta…I've just got a lot on my mind right now. It's nothing to do with the accident. Just cut me some slack, alright? It won't happen again…"

_Why do I feel like I'm apologising to my boss or something?_

He made a face and looked away.

"I was goin' easy on you in that sparring match anyway. Seeing as you're ill and all."

And with that, he gave a cheeky grin and belted out of the dojo. Kaoru caught up with his words a moment later and she was soon close on his heels, yelling her outrage.

However, her anger faded and soon enough, their good-natured laughter filled the yard of the Kamiya Dojo.

-

"Kaoru, are you sure you're alright? I mean, what happens if you feel faint when you're crossing the street?"

Her mother's worried voice echoed through to the sitting room, where Kaoru was slipping on her shoes by the front door. She sighed as she tied up her laces.

"Mom, you have no idea how many times I've heard that today. Doc gave me the go-ahead so I'm sure I'll be fine. In fact, I know I will be." She fixed her pant leg and looked up, "And besides, I need to start studying now if I want to pass these exams after the winter break."

The older woman came through from the kitchen, holding a flower arrangement that was to be placed on the sitting room table. "We're only concerned for your health, dear. You will be careful, won't you? Are you meeting your friends there?"

"Yeah, we're having a study session," she lied easily, knowing her mother wouldn't let her go other wise. Well, maybe she would, but she might send Souta or her grandfather along and that just wouldn't do. _You're still rotting in hell, Kamiya._

She lifted her small rucksack onto her shoulder, which held her History notes and textbook.

"Well, go if you must. But remember and come back for five o'clock since we're heading to the cemetery. This is a day for families after all."

Kaoru sobered and smiled sadly. "Yeah, Mom. The library closes at three, so I'll be back by then."

They shared a quick hug before Kaoru rushed out of the door and crossed the yard. The weather from the morning had stayed pretty much the same. The hours of daylight were longer since the Equinox and all, if she wasn't mistaken. _At least I won't be walking home in the dark..._ Recalling the previous night, she cast the storage building a quick glance and thought of the well house. _You, my friend, will be investigated later. You're not getting off the hook that easily._

And with that, she made her way around the house and towards the front gate, giving the blue car a playful pat in passing. She opened the stiff gate and closed it behind her. As she began to walk away, something caught the light and she noticed it from the corner of her eye. She turned around. And there it was. The bane of her existence. Well, the new one, excluding Souta…and the well.

The Kamiya Dojo name plaque.

If she looked...no, she wouldn't. But then...

Normally, Kaoru was anything but indecisive. Regret, however, was a painful emotion. She wasn't a stranger to it in any case. She'd got more than her fair share after her father's death. Running over hundreds of 'what if?' scenarios in her head. How she would have changed their last conversation. How she would have told him that she loved him. How she forgave him for wiping her face on the dojo floor for years. But after awhile, Kaoru knew that dwelling on these thoughts would not help her. Such things could turn even the sanest person crazy. Okay, so maybe avoiding the name plaque wouldn't kill her but it would damn well annoy the hell out of her for the rest of the day. It would gnaw at her from the inside out. Not as thoroughly as the feeling that guilt invoked, but still to a certain extent.

She leaned back against the gate and sighed; her head tipping backwards until she was looking at the blue sky._ 'What do I do?...If I keep standing here like this, someone's going to walk past and go,_ Hey, there's that weirdo Kaoru Kamiya. She runs around with a stick and hits innocent young children over the head with it. Full of teenage angst that one._ Well, if you'd like to come over here and say that, I could introduce you to my bokken and teenage angst personally...'_

She sighed and proceeded to bang her head against the gate a couple of times. It seemed to help. She heard, more than saw, someone walk past; their footsteps slow, observing something. Probably that crazy Kamiya girl, who, just up to a moment ago, was happily smacking her head on a wooden gate, poor dear. Kaoru rolled her eyes and spared the person a quick glance from beneath her lashes; _It's that old ninny from down the road._ She was always walking past, trying to see in their windows. Kaoru had thought the woman had taken a liking to her grandfather for awhile. Then she decided that she was just a nosey old woman.

She banged her head again for effect and the footsteps hurried on.

_Ok, if I look now then I can quench the damn curiosity that seems to be getting me into so much trouble recently. If I don't, well, there's always later..._

She attempted to take a deep breath before shifting along the wall until she felt the coolness of the stone plaque against her back. It must have been in the shade. She turned slowly; eyes clenched shut, and placed her hands on either side of the plaque and brought her head to eye level with it.

"Just a peek, that's all I need. 1...2...3..." She muttered aloud and her eyes snapped open.

"There's...nothing," her eyes scanned the plaque and her nose was almost touching the stone. The name and sword style were as prominent as ever and the small border design and...Her finger rubbed over four tiny figures in the top left hand corner.

_My God..._ her hand dropped and she backed away from the plaque, stumbling slightly. _How could I have missed it...How could I have never noticed it before?_

A cool wind blew along the street, rustling her clothes and flicking tendrils of dark hair around her face. But she paid no notice. Her eyes were wide and unmoving; focused only on one spot.

_It's not really there. Not _really_. I'm just hallucinating. I should've gone to the hospital and got my head checked out. There's absolutely, positively nothing -_

But there was. Just as she had been told. The figures. A date. A number imprinted within her mind's eye forever. A number which would come to mean a lot to the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin style.

_1878_

_It's true. The old codger was right. But...that means that my father's style…is a lot older than it really is…how is that even possible?_

And with that, Kaoru Kamiya walked down the street in a daze, wishing for the millionth that her father was there to help her.

-

Cappuccinos were great for waking up the brain…_free _cappuccinos seemed to do the job even better.

Those were Kaoru's thoughts as she trailed up the steps to the library building; coffee cup in hand. Ok, so her friend, Ayumi had gotten a part-time job at Starbucks a few months ago. Apart from all the free coffee they managed to get, they also had a place to study after school and at weekends. Kaoru had thought about getting a job there too but with the dojo and everything, she just didn't have the time. However, that didn't stop her from hanging around the place just to get a whiff of the caffeinated fumes, in a less than healthy manner. Ayumi had told her the smell gets sickening after awhile but Kaoru remained blissfully ignorant of her comment.

So, after grabbing the coffee and evading her friend's questions about where she was off to, Kaoru yelled a quick goodbye and a 'put it on my tab!'

She didn't need anyone to disrupt her from her 'research'.

She met the last step and walked with determination towards the library building.

_Okay, so my dad's sword style was copied by Meiji era hooligans. I don't know how they done it, I don't know why they done it…but they did. And I am going kill them for it. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Seeing as they're already dead and it would be like breaking almost every rule of the Kasshin Style. Insert nervous laugh here._

She dumped her cup into the trash can by the main entrance, and then pushed the glass door open.

The brief warmth she had obtained from the coffee was long gone.

-

History was like a foreign language to Kaoru. Sure, she loved the intrigue behind it all but sometimes the expression 'Double-Dutch' came to mind. Pages of contradicting facts, impossible warriors and bloody battles. Figures and dates of countless events spanning across a millennia. The way that folklore and fairytale would mix with the truth, leading to a distorted mirage of reality.

She stared at the page of doodles that she had been working on. Many times, she had written out the Battousai's name; sometimes the kanji was bold and large, whereas sometimes she wrote it in a more swirly, romantic way like the girls at school would do. Mrs. Shimizu had said that he had gained it as a nickname from his peers and enemies. It suited him, the flame-haired demon with the molten eyes.

Kaoru scratched the back of her head, pulling at her slightly too tight ponytail. She had already referred to at least five different books, each with variations of the title "The Bakumatsu and its Warriors", and they all had tiny segments on the Battousai. However, where "A History of Eastern Revolutions" had said that the manslayer had been 25 at the time of fighting, another, simply named "The Bakumatsu", had said he was 15. That second fact had shaken her. At 15, she had been busy cramming for her high school entrance exam and training with a nearby dojo in order to earn the rank of Assistant Master of the Kasshin style; she couldn't even begin to imagine the life of an assassin at such a young age. She had tried to lift the depression from her mind by the thought of the book being inaccurate but it hadn't helped much.

After setting those books aside, Kaoru had wondered about her school textbook but knew there was little point in using it as everyone knew that the government had revised them a few years ago. Something about hiding the extent of Japanese war crimes but she wasn't sure. Anyway, she didn't fancy using a history textbook that had rewritten history in it.

She leafed through another book. It was huge; itss spine was the same width as her palm and the words were in the tiniest font she'd ever come across. She fingered one of the thin pages, thoughtfully, before snapping the book shut and placing it on top of the ever growing tower of history books at her side.

_With my luck, there probably was something on the Battousai in there but I don't have the time or the eye sight to find out..._

She knew that revolutions of any kind were dangerous and turbulent times. There could be no difference between friends and foes. Betrayal and back-stabbing happened on a daily basis. But somehow, she just had to be researching one of the most confusing revolutions of all time. Giving up on books altogether, Kaoru decided to do it the old-fashioned way. Google it.

The mouse moved across the mat swiftly; followed by a few hesitant clicks and a clatter on the keyboard.

Soon enough, she came across the Battousai portrait. She smiled at him, knowing he couldn't see her but she could see him. It was crazy, but true. She touched the smooth screen; running her finger delicately over its silky surface. As her finger crossed his face, she pressed; ever so lightly. Distorting the image. Blurring it.

_What the hell are you doing to me, you jerk…_

Taking a breath, she closed the window and started a new search. She was here for research, not for eye-candy.

_Not that_ he_ is eye-candy or anything._

She worried her bottom lip as she scanned the list that had appeared on the screen.

_No, I don't want to learn Battoujutsu…or spend a weekend in Kyoto…or join the official Battousai fan club. Who_ are_ these people, anyway?_ An image of Yuka crossed her mind. Shaking her head, she scrolled down; the dark blue writing blurring together until one link caught her eye.

_Collection of Bakumatsu-Meiji Era Photographs  
Compiled by Kyoto and Tokyo University Libraries_

Her eyebrow rose slowly and she clicked the link, finally finding something of interest.

The screen was soon filled with black and white photographs; the odd coloured one could be seen now and again as well. Kaoru skimmed through the lists of cities and prefectures before finally settling on her hometown as a starting point.

Her eyes widened as pictures of old Tokyo or Edo as it was known as before the reformation, appeared. She smiled fondly upon a black and white photograph of the Nihonbashi. She crossed it a lot when she was in town. Of course, the version in the picture was wooden. She had learned in grade school that it had been rebuilt many times. They had even gone on a field trip to the Edo-Tokyo Museum, to see what life was like during the 19th century. At the time, the bridge was the centre of Tokyo and was crossed by thousands of people every day. Now, it lived in the shadow of sky-scrapers. She couldn't remember the visit very well, but some snippets of information were still within her mind; stored away and safely gathering dust.

She made a quick note to visit the museum when she had some spare time.

Looking back to the screen, she continued to scroll though the multitude of photographs. Many were identical except for a difference in colour or lens size. However, one photograph caught her eye; merely due to its file size.

Opening it up, she found herself faced with a panorama view of Tokyo in the Meiji era. Kaoru swallowed but her throat was dry. It was just…wow. The city of houses stretched for miles in every direction. Every house was the same height; no protruding eye sores such as sky-scrapers or apartment buildings. How strange to find that Tokyo once had such a flat landscape. At the top right hand corner of the photograph, she could make out the harbour, however Mount Fuji could not be seen which meant that the photo was taken from in front of the mountain. It was sad since it would have completed the picture, but Kaoru found that she didn't care so much. The sky was light; it could have possibly been about mid-day. A beautiful moment in time…in history, captured forever. She looked at the black and white valley and some part of her wished that it had never changed.

Shaking herself, Kaoru printed off the page and continued to look down the list of photos.

_Yokohama? I thought I just selected pictures from Tokyo._ She peered at the small sample image of the Yokohama photograph. It appeared to be a group photo but she couldn't be sure. _I guess it can't hurt…_

Clicking on the link, she watched as the new window opened and the information for the picture began to appear.

_Location: Yokohama  
Year: 11th Meiji  
Photographer: Unknown  
Group photograph: 3 Male, 1 Female_

Quirking an eyebrow, Kaoru waited as the photo loaded and mentally tried to calculate when the 11th year of Meiji was. The top of the black and white photograph had appeared, along with wallpaper and the top of a man's head. Kaoru giggled quietly, the hair was quite spikey--

"Kaoru! Hey, Kaoru!"

Her eyes widened and she ducked down behind her monitor. It looked like Ayumi was out on her lunch break and had realised where she was. Groaning, Kaoru started throwing books back into a nearby tray and gathering up her notes and stuffing them into her bag.

Moving back to the computer, she quickly printed out the page, forgetting her anticipation about the photo. She turned off the monitor and resisted the urge to bang her head on the keyboard. Getting out of her seat, she watched for the brown haired girl turning away before moving across the room; ducking between computers and book stalls on her way to the printer.

She grabbed the pages just as Ayumi came up behind her.

"Kaoru! I knew you would be in here, you little book worm. Couldn't wait to tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah, something like that," Kaoru muttered, holding her print-outs close to her chest as they walked back to her computer. In her haste, she missed one piece of paper. The group photograph. But perhaps, it wasn't quite time for her to see that particular picture yet anyway.

"What were you looking up?"

Kaoru placed her research carefully into her rucksack, keeping it at an angle where Ayumi couldn't see it.

"Oh, you know. Just some history stuff and that."

"Oh yeah, Yuka hasn't stopped going on about that hunk yet. Batty or something -"

"Battousai?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Was he really as cute as she says?"

"Ayumi, Battousai was not a 'hunk'. He was a manslayer. Yuka is just becoming increasingly desperate and has taken to perving on dead guys. Oh, and let's not forget _assassins._ But then again, she did have that mailing list with the ex-cons last year, so it was to be expected."

Ayumi nodded and flopped down into a seat at the reading table, bonelessly.

"I've got a 45 minute break, so…you wanna go window shopping or something?"

Kaoru looked at her watch with melancholy; it was barely quarter past one. She could have had at least another hour and a half of photo research. With a quiet sigh, she mustered a smile for her friend.

"Oh, you know how I've taken up running? Well, I went for a jog with the dog this morning before I went to work, and the damn thing dragged me through some bushes after a rabbit. A _rabbit_ of all things. Take a look at the scratches I got."

She pulled up the bottom of her black pants to reveal a series of small scratches covering her calf. However, it was two intersecting ones that caught Kaoru's attention. She unconsciously moved her hand and ran her finger over them. The heavy feeling in her chest that didn't want to go away, seemed like a lead weight now.

Ayumi grinned. "They're like war wounds, eh?"

Kaoru frowned, and took her traitorous hand away. "They're something alright."

She shouldered her bag and Ayumi stood as well.

"Let's hit the shops, then."

She found herself being dragged out of the library and into the busy city streets; however, her mind was once again caught up in tangled thoughts and impossible reasoning.

A cross-shaped scar. Why was it so…_familiar_?

-

Many hours later, Kaoru was sitting against a pillar on the porch of the Kamiya Dojo, surrounded by paper, her bokken and an empty soup bowl. She was so tired and yet the day hadn't ended yet and there was still so much to do.

The sun was near setting now, the last of its light was splashed across the yard; giving the dojo a soft, ethereal glow. Kaoru looked up from her scattered pages of research. The sky was red, she noted. Not a bloody, violent red. Just a calm, even vermilion. The white clouds from earlier were nowhere in sight and the wind was cool but not overly so.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, listening to the tinkling of the ever-present wind-chime above her. Her mother and grandfather had taken the more scenic route home from the cemetery and wouldn't be back for another hour at least. She knew they both needed time alone with their thoughts and she had volunteered to take Souta home. He was in his room now, probably ecstatic over the reappearance of electricity in the house and was celebrating by shooting some random zombies or something. She didn't pretend to know what he done in his spare time. Their sibling bonds only went so far. She guessed that she could go and nag at him about how nice it was outside and that he should be practicing his swordsmanship instead of sitting indoors on a games console, however, she just couldn't find the energy or will power.

When they had first got back, she had changed into her gi and hakama and tried to run through some kata in the dojo, but she could still smell the incense that they had lit at her father's graveside a few hours before. It had prickled at her senses and burned her throat, leaving her feeling lethargic and unable to concentrate. It was a good thing that the advanced Kamiya Kasshin class had been called off in respect for the holiday, because Kaoru wasn't sure how good a teacher she would have been tonight.

Rubbing her nose at the memory of the scent, she moved her empty bowl and picked up the photo of Meiji Era Tokyo.

She stared at the sloping roofs and long corridors of the houses. She couldn't help but grudgingly wonder if perhaps the dojo could be there, seeing as it had roots in the Meiji era. She scanned the photo in hope of catching sight of the familiar buildings but to no avail.

Her eyes flicked to the Sun's low position in the sky. It was time.

She had checked out the well-house earlier and hadn't been surprised to find that her grandfather had locked it back up again.

_Mom and Gramps won't be home for a while so…I guess it's time for operation Bribe Souta._

She put the photo back with the others and took the papers into the house. As she walked down the corridor, she ran her fingers through her damp fringe thoughtfully, and the memory of the previous night was once again fresh in her mind.

She soon found Souta in his bedroom, positioned in his usual space in front of the TV. He was shooting mutants, not zombies. Stupid Kaoru. He had saved up for ages to finally be able to buy the console. Most of the time, it seemed like the controller was permanently stuck to his hand. Initially, she was rather pissed off that he had spent that amount of money on a console, when he could have bought an extremely high-quality bokken _and _a cleaning kit for the same price.

She cleared her throat, "Souta, I need your help with something."

He gave an annoyed sigh and looked up with an impatient, questioning glance. "What's in it for me?"

She chewed her bottom lip as she watched him pause his game and she was actually glad that she had come prepared. She held up a Playstation 3 magazine and waved it in the air. Souta's eyes followed it's movements in a hawk-like way.

"Any game. Any price."

She didn't have much spare cash since the profits from the dojo were one of the family's main sources of income. However, she had quite a bit left over from her birthday and this was something she had to do.

The young boy grinned greedily. "Jeez, desperate much, Kaoru? I definitely think you've bumped your head and addled your brains. But hey, I'm not the kinda guy to turn down an offer like that. What's the catch?"

Kaoru gritted her teeth.

"I need you to pick a lock for me."

-

The padlock startled them by finally giving a resounding '_click'_.

"Done…in the space of ten minutes. Not bad, not bad at all." Souta stated proudly as he began tidying up his lock-picking set. He was skilled at all things naughty. He had bought the kit one day after school a few months ago and their mother didn't know about it. Kaoru felt bad for deceiving them but she couldn't think of a good enough excuse to be able to investigate the well legitimately. She ran her hand over the rough wood of the well house.

"I really appreciate this, Souta."

"Yeah, yeah. And why do you want to break into the well house again?"

"It's top secret."

He raised an eyebrow at her cryptic response and his eyes swept over her to where her hand was clenching her bokken like it was a lifeline. "Kaoru…I don't know about this. Is this anything to do with last night?"

"Sort of. Now, go back in and play your game, I'll be two seconds."

"You're not gonna fall in the well again, are you?"

"No, Souta I won't fall in again."

He heaved a sigh and gave the well house one last look before leaving her alone.

_That was a little too easy…_

But the thought slipped from her mind, as she slid open the door and looked into the dark abyss. From what she could remember from the previous night, the well itself was unchanged. It stood quietly and unassumingly at the bottom of the stairs. Using her common sense, she shifted a nearby stone across the ground and in front of the door, before making her way cautiously into the well house.

The Sun's golden light was streaming through the spaces between the wood, so inside it was more illuminated and there was absolutely no chance of her falling into the well. She turned around and looked at the door; it was open and it would stay that way. No mysterious winds blowing it shut.

Turning back to the well, she found that she was now right in front of it. Shaking her head, she reached out and touched the wooden rim. It was damp like the night before. Looking over the edge, she saw only endless darkness. However, it couldn't be that far down if she hadn't injured herself before. Taking a breath, there was many scents that suddenly assaulted her. Rotten, damp wood and brimstone and something floral that seemed drastically out of place. There was something else...something that smelled almost sweet in the way that it entwined with the air of the ancient well house. It was like...old magic.

She became confused at her own train of thought. _Magic doesn't have a scent, does it? And even if it does I've never come across it before..._

It was almost as if someone else had planted the idea in her head and she'd unconsciously agreed with it.

_Okay, so...there's nothing totally out of the ordinary about its appearance. There's some funky smells around the place but that could just be because it hasn't been properly aired in a while. Now...the blue light..._

She'd run over everything she could remember a hundred times and she just couldn't understand the presence of the blue light. It could have been a dream. It honestly could have been. The fear and adrenaline could have made her slightly delusional, that's all. She looked into the empty depths of the well once again.

_That's another thing. What's the point in keeping the well inside a shelter and everything if it's dried up? There has to be a reason for it, there just has to be..._

Throwing caution to the wind, Kaoru slipped her bokken into the sash at her waist and swung both legs over the rim of the well, until her feet were dangling over the edge. She eyed the rusty metal ladder that lined one side of the well. It didn't look particularly safe and it looked as if it cut off half way down the well anyway. Shifting into position, she eased off the edge until her hands and feet were the only thing keeping her from falling. Jumping in wasn't exactly breaking her promise to Souta was it? After all, he had asked her not to fall in, he never said anything about not jumping in. She just needed to have a look around the bottom and see if there were any clues to what had happened the night before.

"Talk about a leap of faith," she muttered as she dropped into the well. The wind rushed past her ears and her stomach felt like it had been left at the top. It happened all too fast. One moment she was about to hit the bottom of the dark well and the next, a bright blue light seemed to appear from nowhere and swallowed her. An electrical energy buzzed in her ears and gravity was pulling her towards a brighter light.

There was no time for fear or anxiety. And with wide eyes, Kaoru resigned herself to whatever fate had in store for her.

_Well, damn..._

-

"_**Kaoruuuuu!!**_"

Souta had been waiting by the storage building. He knew she would kick his ass if she knew he was hanging around but still...he didn't want to go back to his game and she ended up falling down the well again and breaking her leg this time. He had listened to the scuffling of her sneakers as she moved the stone in front of the door before making her way into the well house. He had spent a few moments laughing at her choice of footwear. Only Kaoru could make a traditional training outfit look good with something as modern as sneakers.

And within seconds of quelling his silent laughter, a blinding blue light had streamed through the wooden slats of the wellhouse walls and he was sure he had heard Kaoru's sharp intake of breath. Rushing to the door, he watched helplessly as the light receded back into the depths of the well. Tripping over the stairs, he ran over to the well and instead of finding his unconscious sister lying at the bottom once again, he found...nothing. She was gone. Disappeared.

Leaning against the side of the well, he ran a hand over his face.

"Mom is gonna _kill _me. Nah, scrap that. She's gonna kill me, then she's gonna revive me. Then she'll kill me _again_. Oh, man."

-


End file.
